


Kitten has Claws

by Rennie (erin_lee95)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erin_lee95/pseuds/Rennie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aza has been a ward of the Starks since she was six years old, always intended to wed the Stark boy. She never fit in with the proper ladies like Sansa. Instead Arya and Jon, the other outsiders, were her closest companions. She couldn't believe the disaster left in the wake of the King's visit. With Bran comatose, her only family splitting up, and her wedding fast approaching, Aza must come to the responsibilities laid before her or else lose everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitten has Claws

Aza watched as the King's procession marched through the front gates. There may have been over a hundred of them in the party, all dressed in glamour, but Aza didn't care. Her only wish was to sneak back to the woods and practice her archery in peace. None of this fanfare interested her.  
Out the corner of her eye, Aza noticed Arya's late entrance and Aza couldn't help but smile as Ned Stark pulled the helmet off of her head. Arya was most definitely a miniature Aza. She also didn't care for all this fanfare. It was nice to know Aza wasn't alone in her beliefs.  
In fact, Aza was quite proud of Arya. She was a natural talent with the bow, and was even beating poor Brandon. Bran was pushed by this, though, he told Aza so. Bran also told Aza of how he wants to someday join the Kingsguard. Aza made sure that that his brothers were encouraging and not tortuous in order to give Bran the confidence he needs.  
Aza was so lost in her thoughts she had missed the fat King struggle off his horse and waddle over to approach Ned. Ned tried to formality, but King Robert greeted him like an old friend, pulling him into a hug after insulting Ned on his non-existent weight gain.  
Everyone knew the story of Robert's Rebellion, truly all started because of the King's love for Lady Lyanna.  
Foolish, if you asked Aza. Even at her young age of seventeen, Aza knew love had no place in the political theatre. Some say that Stark should have taken the thrown instead. Looking at the King now, Aza couldn't help but agree.  
"Take me to your crypt," King Robert ordered. "I want to pay my respects."  
"We've been riding for a month," the Queen said. "The dead can wait."  
King Robert ignored his wife and looked to his host. "Ned." Without another word, the King left towards the crypt and Ned dutifully followed.  
Arya, who always speaks her mind, asked, quite loudly, "Where's the Imp?"  
Sansa shushed Arya for the hundredth time.  
Catelyn showed the Queen to her chambers and they were all finally able to breathe again.  
Arya hopped up to Aza. "Do you know where the Imp is?"  
"Of course not," Aza answered. She knelt down and whispered, "Why don't we sneak off to the woods and get some practice in, hmm?" Arya nodded enthusiastically. "I'll meet you there in five minutes."  
Arya ran off to get her bow, the usual spring in her step apparent even more so.  
"You can't be gone too long," someone said behind Aza.  
She smiled, "Don't worry; we'll make it back in time for the feast, Robb." She turned to face him.  
"I doubt it," Robb answered. "When you two are together, you can be gone for hours at a time."  
"That's the joy in it." Aza noticed Bran over Robb's shoulder. "Excuse me, I'll see you tonight at the feast." She gave Robb a soft kiss on the cheek, whispering, "I prefer the beard."  
Robb laughed as he walked away.  
"Hello, Bran," Aza greeted when she reached Bran. Kneeling, she said, "I heard you saw your first execution today."  
"Yes, I did," Bran sighed.  
"Did you look away?"  
Bran shook his head.  
Aza nodded. "Good. It's nasty business, but it happens. You particularly need to get used to it. When you're a part of the Kingsguard, you'll be seeing a lot of that."  
Bran smiled. Aza especially loved that smile.  
"Now, go on. Don't get too dirty before the feast tonight."  
Aza went to the archery housing and grabbed her special bow that Robb had given her for her fifteenth name-day. It was her favorite and it knew her grip well.  
"Arya?" Aza called when she arrived at their usual meeting place by the great willow tree. "Arya, where are you?"  
Whoosh! Thump!  
An arrow wobbled in the trunk's bark just a few inches from Aza's head.  
"Yes!" Arya cheered from up the small hill.  
"Arya!" Aza pulls the arrow out of the tree, and then threw it away when she saw that the arrowhead was ruined. "What was that?"  
"A brilliant shot, that's what." Arya ran down the hill and met her with a bright smile.  
"Shots like that may seem fun, but if you were off by just a few inches, you could have hit me," Aza scolded. Arya hung her head, realizing her mistake.  
Aza sighed. Scolding the girl who was like a little sister was hard, but sometimes it needed to be done.  
"But it truly was a good shot."  
Like a rabbit popping up out of its hole, Arya's head bounced up, that familiar, mischievous smile was back.  
Aza laughed. "Now let's get to it."  
For the next few hours, the two of them shot arrow after arrow. Joy and excitement filled Aza. She was never more at home than when she was in the woods, the wild.  
"Lady Aza! Lady Arya!"  
The booming voice echoed through the trees. Jory, the Captain of the guards, appeared, his breathing heavy and rushed.  
"Jory, what is it?" Aza asked.  
"It is getting closer to the feast, and Lady Stark requests that you and Lady Arya get ready now," Jory said.  
Arya's face twisted into a grimace. Rolling her eyes, Aza collected the bows and quivers and nudged Arya forward.  
"Lady Sansa requests your presence, Lady Aza," Jory added.  
Aza and Arya exchanged a knowing glance.  
When Aza knocked on Sansa's door Catelyn was the one who answered.  
"Come in, Aza."  
Sansa's room was warm as Aza stepped in. The walls were covered in draperies and fabric. The room screamed that its owner was very proper and very girly. Sometimes Aza hated how proper Sansa was, never allowing room to laugh and play. Sansa was truly southern, through and through; even more so than her mother.  
"Sit down, Aza," Sansa commanded. "Mother has something she wants to tell us."  
Aza did as she was asked. "What is the news?" Catelyn went back to brushing Sansa's hair.  
"King Robert has offered a marriage between Sansa and Prince Joffrey," Catelyn said. Not much enthusiasm was in her face.  
On the contrary, Sansa's face lit up like a midnight fire. "Oh, truly?"  
"Yes," Catelyn nodded.  
"Why did you want me to know?" Aza didn't understand why Catelyn wanted her here.  
"I was thinking a double wedding."  
Aza's breath hitched. So the time had come.  
"Oh, what an idea, Lady Catelyn." Aza forced a smile.  
"Do you think Joffrey will like me?" Sansa asked, the focus back to her, just as she liked it. Poor Sansa, she was starry-eyed already. Then her mood changed. "What if he thinks I'm ugly?"  
"Then he is the stupidest prince that ever lived," Catelyn reassured her.  
Aza was forced to agree. Sansa may have been spoiled, but she was a beauty, the spitting image of her mother. There wasn't an ounce of Stark in her face.  
"He's so handsome," Sansa mused.  
This was something Aza didn't agree with. Personally, she thought the snobbish look that Joffrey constantly wore turned his face ugly, but Aza kept quiet.  
"When will we be married?" Sansa continued. "Soon? Or will we have to wait?"  
"Hush now!" Catelyn said suddenly, even causing Aza to jump. "Your father hasn't even said yes."  
And that's when Aza decided that she had had enough. "Excuse me, Lady Stark. I had best go and get ready for the feast myself." Aza stood up.  
Catelyn nodded. "Of course, Aza. See you at the feast."  
Aza curtsied and exited.


End file.
